The Angel's Son
by BlackRain88
Summary: Cas had a secret. He was lying to the Winchesters. There was no war in heaven. The archangel Raphael was dead. The story he had told the brothers was a cover up, a way to avoid telling the truth... Castiel gets burdened with an unexpected responsibility.
1. Chapter 1

Season 6, a little AU, no war in Heaven and Raphael is dead, so all the proof of the heavenly war in the episodes didn't happen.

Tell me what you think so I'll be more inclined to write more :P. This idea possessed me and I couldn't let it go unless I got a chapter out. The story might or might not be that long. It depends on how it comes out.

Disclaimer: I WISH I owned the Winchesters. If I did, I'd probably gender-bend them into females and lock them in my closet to have sweet, sweet sex with them.

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Cas had a secret. He was lying to the Winchesters. There was no war in heaven. The archangel Raphael was dead. The story he had told the brothers was a cover up, a way to avoid telling the truth, but give him a very important excuse to spend his time where he needed to. He couldn't tell the truth to the Winchesters. Who knew what they would think, say or do? Even Castiel was at a loss. He didn't know what he was doing or how to do it, but he managed to get by.

The feelings he felt about the situation were strong. He felt such things toward this one individual that he never expected when this all started. It was stronger then what he felt for the Winchester brothers even. The only thing he could compare this devotion he had to was what he felt about God. Only, these might even be stronger than that. This living creature before him was real, something he could see, touch, feel, care for. He could believe in this being with all of his heart. He was there. He could look into those eyes and see him, know him for everything he was and wasn't. That was something God could never do for him.

There was another difference he felt from this being and God. While with God, he felt loved and protected and watched over, he felt it all inside out for this creature. He was the one loving, watching over, and doing the protecting. When he thought deeply about it, he knew he would give his life for this individual. How did this happen? Why?

Castiel carded through the soft locks of hair that belonged to the small boy in his lap. They were… watching television. It was something the child liked to do. Castiel didn't quite understand it, especially with the strange, nonsense speaking, costume dressed alien-like beings squeaking about nothing in particular dancing across the screen and singing about friendship or sharing, but the one curling up against him giggled and his eyes lit up and somehow, that was the only thing that mattered.

He was the first human child to be brought alive into Heaven, but then again, maybe that wasn't entirely right. Castiel wasn't sure if the boy was human, not entirely anyway. In fact, for all intents and purposes, he shouldn't have existed. He was created by Crowley, an experiment, and Castiel had saved him from pain and torture. He took him under his wing, pardon the pun, and took his innocent, sad young face into his care and placed him under his responsibility.

The child was at first relieved to be away from the monster and clung to Cas, then he started asking questions. Where was his family? When could he go back to them? They must be worried sick.

Unfortunately, there was no real family left for the boy to go to. When Castiel explained the situation, the child had broken down and cried for days. He was miserable for weeks. Sometimes, at night, he would cry out for his family. Castiel would go to him, try to comfort him. Sometimes, the boy screamed at him and even hit him, yelling at him to go away. Other times, he accepted the comfort and cried in his arms.

Eventually, the child started to mend. Castiel found himself charming the young boy with the wonders of Heaven and all it could be, what it could do. The boys became amazed and awed by the beauty, the power, the magnificence.

He stayed up with the boy and read him fairy tales until he fell asleep. He would sit by his bed sometimes, watching. Sometimes the child had nightmares and called out for Castiel in the middle of the night. He would awake the sweet child and tell him that everything was okay.

He found himself falling for the child. He was enamored by his innocence and purity. The way his eyes lit up and the sound of his laughter. Those big, expressive eyes and the sweet actions the child would do to show Castiel of his affection.

The then six year old had asked for a teddy bear. He demanded that it would have wings. Castiel obliged of course and gave him a big, white fluffy teddy with white wings and a halo above it's head. The boy had held it close, looked up at Castiel, and said. "His name will be Cas and he'll be my angel like you. I love him."

It wasn't that he didn't care a time later about Sam's soul being gone and the brothers going through hell when they called out for his help, but really, there was nothing he could do about to help them and the child he now looked after needed him. He grew upset when Castiel was away for too long, afraid he wouldn't come back, despite Castiel's reassurances.

Dean ended up calling him loudly and yelled at him when he managed to get in contact with Castiel, spitting out at the angel that he and his brother were important, that they needed help and that the angel had to give it to them.

So he stayed and helped the soulless Sam and soulful Dean while the boy slept soundly back in Heaven until he heard a quiet sobbing at the back of his mind and the pleading for his angel. That's what the boy liked to call him sometimes, his guardian angel. Cas had immediately spat out an excuse at Dean and rushed to the boys side. The sobbing child had thrown himself into Castiel's arms and held on tight. He'd had a nightmare. Castiel soothed him, rubbed his back and told the boy that everything would be okay, that he was here now. The sobs quieted and soon the child was just holding him peacefully. Castiel took the child back to bed and tucked him under the covers, running a hand through his hair and looking down at him fondly.

"You should go back to sleep."

The child nodded before speaking quietly. "Goodnight Dad."

Castiel's eyes had widened in surprise and he felt his heart fill with such whirlwinds of emotion. Shock, confusion, sadness, happiness, and... love? He didn't want to hurt the child's feelings, but he wanted to know what had caused the child to say such a thing. He hadn't helped create the child in his original form or this one, so why would he title him as a parent?

"Why did you call me that?"

The child's innocent eyes widened in slight fear.

"Are you mad?"

"No, just trying to understand."

"You-you… you look after me and… It just feels right. It feels like you are. You take care of me and hug me when I'm sad to make me feel better. You get me toys and stay by me. For a long time, I thought I didn't have a father anymore, but now I feel I do. It's you, my guardian angel." His voice gained a little more confidence then and he looked determined and serious as he then said. "You're my father."

Castiel took a breath, taking the information in.

"Is that okay?" the child asked, his innocent wide eyes looking into Castiel's, begging for permission.

Castiel's brain filled with inner conflicts and questions and debates and such feelings, turning and warring with each other for a minute before they decided there was really nothing to argue about in the first place. The answer was simple and he gave it to the precious child before him.

"Yes."

The child smiled and sat up to hug Castiel, a hug which the angel returned. When the child laid down he repeated. "Goodnight Dad."

He curled up to his teddy and Castiel smiled, stroking the hair of the child he had come to feel was his own in the past year.

"Goodnight… son."

He tasted the word on his tongue, let it roll around. It felt strange, foreign. He'd never imagined such a word would ever be spoken from his lips in the countless years of his existence, but now, it had been and it felt as true, if not truer, then God himself. Despite having no blood similarities with the child, he felt the boy to be his.

Later, Sam had tricked his presence over, claiming an angelic artifact had been spotted on earth, which turned out to be a lie. He threatened to hunt Castiel down and find a way to murder him if he didn't help, that he didn't sleep and wouldn't stop until he found a way to bring about his death.

He thought of the child so dear to him in heaven… his child, and what Sam would do if, in his pursuit of Castiel's homicide (or... angelcide?), he found the innocent boy. Such fear that he had never known filled his vessel's veins. Greater fear than caused by the apocalypse, even stronger than the dread and horror he'd felt at losing his angelic essence, the fear of becoming human.

So he helped and it turned out they were going after Crowley, the demon that had caused his child pain. He wanted nothing more than to murder the demon. Such anger and hostility drowned him that he felt more familiarity with his demonic cousin than he'd ever thought would be possible.

He couldn't let this spawn of hell live. He had to die. He deserved so much worse than what he was about to give, but it would have to do. When he walked in and saw Sam and Dean pinned to walls, he glared.

"Leave them alone," he said coldly.

The demon raised an amused eyebrow. "Castiel, haven't seen you all season."

"Put the knife down," he ordered calmly, murder lacing his every word.

This man hurt, tormented and used his friends, and tortured his child. There were no words he could use to describe the inhuman rage he felt. He felt like he imagined an archangel would before a vicious smite.

"You that bossy in heaven?"

Castiel opened the bag in his hands.

"Hey, what's in the giftbag?"

The angel met Crowleys eyes with a piercing gaze and brought out a skull. "You are."

"Not possible…"

"You didn't hide your bones as well as you should have," he said before chucking the skull back into the bag.

Crowley turned to Castiel, tucked the demon killing knife under his arm, and clapped.

"Cookie for you."

"Can you restore Sam's soul or not?"

Castiel snapped his fingers and released Sam and Dean from their pinning holds against the wall.

"If I can help in any other way…"

"Answer him!" Dean snapped.

The rage and turmoil was clear in the older Winchesters eyes. The desperation, grief, and sick black hope for his brother shone from his jade depths.

Crowley turned to Castiel and smirked, before looking at Dean.

"No, I can't. Not… anymore anyway."

"What the hell do you mean?" Dean snapped, wanting, demanding, a straight answer.

Castiel's eyes burned with warning and fury.

"He didn't tell you?" the demon asked with a chuckle. "Figured your little winged boy-toy would have clued you in." He turned to look at Castiel with a playful grin. "Oh, you naughty angel."

"Don't listen to him," Castiel hissed out.

"You see," Crowley said, slowly, pleasantly, as if the words from his lips were sips of a fine wine and he savored each one as it trickled down his throat. "I was working on a way to… restore Sam as it were, a little experiment of mine. A ritual of sorts to make Sam back into the soulful all-too-sensitive brat he used to be,"

Dean turned to look at Castiel with accusing eyes. He looked like an angry rattle-snake, willing to strike at anyone that so much as stepped the wrong way in front of him.

"He's lying," Castiel said.

"but your angel friend here came in and stopped me," Crowley continued. "Took away the key part of my little spell and hid it away. He's probably keeping it right now, locked up nice and safe."

"Is that true?" Dean snapped at Castiel and when he got nothing but silence, turned back to Crowley. "So you could restore Sam if you had this… thing he took?"

"Well," Crowley said, "I would be able to restore him to his former self."

"No you wouldn't," Castiel bit out.

"Maybe not exactly, but pretty close," Crowley said. "Closest thing you could get and it would have been much better than that lump of emptiness over there."

Sam glared at being called a lump of emptiness, looking ready to leap forward and attack at command, like a snarling pit-bull held back on a leash waiting to be thrown into the ring of a dog fight so he could rip and tear and kill, the only things he really knew how to do before, the only things the brought up memories raising him to be a killer told him made sense anymore with no feelings to keep the limits in check.

Castiel simply looked over to the bag of demon bones and set it afire with a glance before flicking the angry blue eyes to the demon, feeling a sick delight inside of him as he watched the smug smile ripped clean from his face as he burst into flames, screaming. He savored every moment of the demons all-too-long-awaited death. Then, he turned. Of course, Dean was at his back, yelling at him.

"_What the hell Cas? Is what he said true? Have you known how to get Sam's soul back all along?_" he growled out.

"It wouldn't have been Sam. His soul is in hell and would have stayed there no matter what. What the demon would have done is simply put up an illusion, a falsity."

"What are you talking about? What was the ritual?"

"None of your concern," Castiel said coldly. He couldn't tell Dean or Sam. He just could not. Especially in their mentally lacking states, there wasn't even a guarantee they would see the situation for what it was and treat it rationally. And he didn't want to risk them taking his child from him.

"Damn it Cas, it _IS_ my freaking concern. It's my brother's soul we're talking about here. There's nothing that could possibly be _more_ of my concern."

Cas turned to leave. Dean followed right behind him along with Sam.

This time it was Sam who spoke. "What is the object he said you're hiding, the key to the spell or whatever?"

"Nothing. Goodbye."

"No you don't! You're freaking explaining this to us right now," Dean barked.

Castiel disappeared from them, mind on getting back to heaven and the child waiting for him, but he didn't foresee what Dean would do next, despite that it was bound to happen. If he'd have known, he would have went anywhere else but back to heaven and the child. Dean, in anger, had grabbed onto Castiel's shoulder and was taken with Castiel to a place no living humans were even allowed. Castiel pulled back from Dean, horror written clear across his face. Dean looked confused as to what freaked out his angel friend so bad, but then looked determined to figure out what the hell he'd been hiding.

His eyes locked on the child, the child Castiel now viewed as his own. He'd woken up in the time Castiel was gone and smiled widely at the sight of the angel he now viewed as his father. Then his innocent face held the expression of curiosity as he saw the man standing behind his guardian angel. Had his father brought home a friend? What was he doing here? Castiel's heart wrenched with such fear and desperation. He wanted to cry out, scream at his… his son to run, run away, but the words locked up in his throat, his vessel so filled with these emotions that he couldn't even breathe, and it was too late anyway.

Dean had seen the child and turned to him. The Winchester brother's face paled in shock, like his breath had been stolen away. He looked at the now seven year old child with such total and utter confusion that he looked as if he were about to explode. Then, after a minute of silence, he spoke one word, a name.

"_**Sam?**__**"**_


	2. Chapter 2

Aaand welcome to chapter 2! I know you all are wondering how the next part goes. Well, here you go.

Castiel: What the hell Dean? Living humans aren't allowed in heaven!

Dean: This is heaven?

Castiel: Yes.

Dean: Oh! So _that's_ why he's there. He's like, my memory of Sam or something? Like the last time I was here?

Castiel: O.o ... Yes, that's it. That's it exactly.

Dean: Oh okay, you can take me back now.

Castiel: -takes Dean back to Earth-

Sam: What was that?

Dean: Nothing. Cas is just weird.

The incident is never mentioned again and nothing is ever explained.

THE END

jk obviously. Now that you've been properly disoriented, here's the real one...

Disclaimer: I am one of the millions of fangirls that can't have what they want, Sam and Dean.

Thank you all to those beautiful six people who reviewed. I especially enjoyed the longer reviews of Shadow496 and my loyal reviewer, best friend, and older sister, DracoStarbo.

And for Shadow496, all will be explained... in time ;). If I tell it all at once, that just spoils the fun, now doesn't it? Hehehe...

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Castiel grit his teeth and turned sharply to Dean.

"Why did you come here?"

"I wanted to see what the hell you were hiding that might save my _brother_. Good thing too, or I might never have found out about this…. That's SAM Cas! Or at least, it looks like him. What is it?"

Castiel glared at Dean. He cared a lot for the man. He was his friend and he wanted him to be happy and safe, but when he dared to talk about his child like that.

"Don't you _dare_ call him an _it_!" he snapped.

"Dad?" the small child asked, looking wary of the man that his angel-father seemed to be arguing with. "Who is that?"

"Dad? You're not his… _Dad_, I mean, right? You told me you were a virgin, and angels don't have kids! And… why did he just call you Dad? And what the hell is a carbon copy of my _young_ younger brother doing with you?"

Castiel ignored the older Winchester for a moment and turned to the small, scared child.

"Please go to your room Samuel. I just need a little private time with a friend. We have things to talk about."

The child shaped as the young form of Sam nodded before glaring at Dean, who, not knowing who or _what_ this doppelganger was, glared right back with hostility that would make a demon shiver. The small version of Sam just walked up to Dean and stomped on his foot. Dean yelped and reached for his gun, but stopped when he saw the look of bloodshed in Castiel's eyes when he reached for the weapon. He left it then because first, the kid might be innocent for all he knew, one damn hell of a brat maybe, but innocent nonetheless. The second was because he'd only seen that look like that on Cas's face a very few times, and usually even then it didn't have that kind of heat.

Of course, his thoughts were interrupted as his ears got assaulted by a mouthful of child blabber.

"You better be nice to my dad or you'll be sorry!" he said with a fierce gaze to his hazel eyes.

"Samuel. I don't think you should be stepping on people's feet," Castiel remarked, though he didn't look at all angry with the child for this action.

The little version of Sam gave Dean a sharp '_I'm warning you'_ glare before turning and doing as his father asked, leaving the room. Dean watched him go in curiosity and disbelief, as if he still couldn't quite comprehend the sight before him; that a little Sam was walking around and, of all things, treating Castiel like a father. He quickly regained his senses though and turned back to his bombshell-secret-keeping-feathered-friend and glared, his eyes burning with questions and demanding answers.

"Cas… What the hell is going on?"

Castiel signed in resignation. He would have to tell Dean the truth. There was no way around it. He could wipe Dean's memory of the event, but Sam still remembered and he wasn't sure the memory thing would work on Sam. Of course, the soulless tall version would rat him out if it didn't and he'd be in even bigger trouble. Not to mention, Dean would realize a day had suddenly gone missing from his calendar and start hunting for whatever caused his memory loss. He wasn't unintelligent by any stretch of the imagination.

"Before Sam came to you, shortly after Crowley pulled his body out of the pit, he tried to find a way to make Sam more… believable. More like a real human being with feelings and emotions. Unfortunately, Sam's soul must have been irretrievable, probably smeared all over the walls in tiny little bits and untouchable, so he did something else. He made a copy of the most whole pieces he could find and put them together to create a feeling version of what Sam used to be. He created a new, impressionable soul through a ritual and filtered the copies of Sam's soul in hell to create an undamaged Sam. Unfortunately, because of the horrible state of Sam's soul, the filtering had to be so severe it would only create a young child version of what Sam used to be."

"Are you saying that that… is part of Sam's soul walking around and you didn't tell me?" Dean accused, seeming furious at the idea.

"No, it's not Sam. I believe I told you Crowley couldn't retrieve Sam's soul from hell. He could only make a copy of the bits and pieces he found in hell."

The talk of his brother's soul and what Sam must be going through brought obvious pain to Dean's eyes, but he tried to hide it, pushing it aside to deal with later, or never. Right now, the older Winchester needed more answers.

"So what? It's like Sammy the mini-me clone?"

Castiel blinked. "I do not understand that reference, but the soul was indeed a clone of Sam's in some ways."

"But… how would that help Sam get his soul back?"

"It wouldn't. Crowley just wanted to make you _think_ Sam had his soul back."

Dean took a moment of silence to adjust to this information. It was a lot to take in after all and he was still trying to make sense of things. And really, who could blame him? After a silence, Dean finally spoke again.

"Well, it's obvious I wouldn't believe it if all I got was this child version, so how was this supposed to… trick me?"

"Crowley had Sam's real vessel with the memories of his life in it. The soul was… is, still moldable. He was planning to…"

This time, Castiel was the one who needed a moment as pain hit him hard at the thought of his poor child going through anything horrible, and what he'd walked into. That torture, the poking, prodding, ripping. He felt tears come to his eyes and, surprised at the liquid, gathered them on the backs of his fingers and brought his hand down to look at them. Little leaks of liquid from his eyes… He had never experienced the sensation of weeping and he didn't much like it. It wasn't the most pleasant of sensations, but for Sam, his poor child, he would cry.

Dean was looking at Cas, giving him an odd glance. To see the angel he knew as a mostly emotionless, but passionate dude crying took him back. And he didn't understand exactly why. Still, seeing his friend cry brought sympathy to Dean and he put out a supporting arm on Cas's shoulder. He had done a lot for him and Sam and did deserve something in return.

Cas seemed to soak up the comfort offered and after a moment, was able to talk.

"He was going to rip the soul from Samuels form and blend it in with the adult Sam's memories and body in hopes that the soul would recognize learn them and grow on the adult Sam's personality."

Dean took some deep breaths, trying to understand all of this. Cas continued to talk.

"I interrupted them as that demon was… t-trying to rip Samuels soul out."

"Jeeze Cas, are you okay?" Dean asked, worried for his friend.

"This emotionally affects me," Cas responded before continuing. "I stopped him, the demon Crowley. I took Samuel away and into my care. I've been looking after him ever since."

"I'm sorry, but I gotta ask," Dean said after a few moments. "Is he… _safe_? Is he even human?"

"He's just a child Dean," Cas said with a fierce glare.

"Yeah Cas, but so was that other kid, that anti-christ son of demon kid we still haven't found and you were ready to kill him because he was too powerful. How powerful is this… soul with little Sammy's body? Do you know? Is he dangerous?"

"He's just a child! He has no powers that I can see and has been nothing but a traumatized little boy who doesn't know what's happened to him or why. All he knew was that one minute, he was having breakfast with you and your father and the next he's chained to a rack, watching in terror as some unknown mad man with black eyes pokes at and prods at and tortures him! Then, when he's finally saved, he can't even go home to his family because they've apparently grown up in his absence and never even worried about him or bothered to look for him due to the fact that there was another version of him that grew up with his family and was loved by and cared for from them."

The intensity, anger, and frustration in Castiel's voice had grown and grown as he ranted and by the time he was at the end, he was biting out the words as if they were laced with venom that he wanted to pierce Dean with to get him to understand. Dean's questions fell quiet, for the moment anyway, because he had no idea what to say. He felt pity for his brother, or rather, this kid that was sort of like his brother and thought he was his brother. Whatever, it was too confusing to think about at the moment. He imagined that happening to Sam as a kid, being taken away and tortured by Crowley and his blood boiled. He also realized that, basically, in this kids mind, that was exactly what happened to him because of that son-of-a-bitch Crowley!

He almost wished the demon were still alive so he could kill him himself.

He still didn't know what to make of this situation, but for now, he'd back off of Cas's case. He saw the passion in his friends' eyes in the way he looked at the kid and talked to him, even though he'd only seen less than a minute of interaction between the two and he could tell in the way that Cas spoke about him was like the kid meant the world to him. Dean recognized the look from the mirror. He'd felt the same way about Sammy and, for a time, Ben.

And it was then that he understood why the kid had called him Dad and why Cas accepted it as truth. There didn't have to be blood shared to be family. It was an absolute truth he'd learned from Ben, who he'd thought of and still thought of as his son, and Bobby, the man he saw as a father. Neither of the two shared blood with him, but they were both as real of a family in his heart as his blood-brother Sam was. And it didn't take much time either. Dean had only spent a year with Ben before he thought of the kid as his own. Hell, even when he first met the kid, in the small time he'd spent on that hunt, he felt as if Ben were his own, even after he learned that in blood, he wasn't.

This child version of Sammy hadn't had anyone else, and Dean knew as kids, their father was too busy trying to track down the thing that killed Mom that he didn't have time to be much of a father. He was more of a drill sergeant than anything else. Cas had looked after the kid from what Dean had seen, and so, he became the father Sam never really had. Not to mention Cas was basically his savior.

"How is he doing?" Dean asked.

"He's fine. He's gotten a lot better than he was when I first found him."

Dean felt a need building up in his chest, a curiosity and a bit of longing.

"Can I see him?" he asked.

Castiel looked at Dean with suspicion in his eyes. He'd just talked about not being sure if Samuel was human and there was an undertone of hostility in his voice when he'd mentioned it, as if he were thinking of killing the boy if he wasn't "safe". Then again, Dean was one of his few friends. And his friends really consisted of three people, Sam, Dean, and Samuel. So he had a lot of faith and trust in the oldest Winchester. Still, a part of him didn't even want to take the chance. He gave Dean a warning glare, a threat that if he brought any harm to the child, he would rip his head off, and Dean met Cas's eyes and gave the slightest of nods. He'd behave.

"Fine."

He took Dean to Sam's room and Dean stopped in the doorway to take in the sight of the room. He took in a deep breath.

"Uh, Cas, where exactly _is_ this?"

"Heaven," Cas answered, then looked back at him with another glare. "You are definitely not supposed to be here. I know you've been here on quite a number of occasions, but frequent visitations or not, it's highly forbidden for living humans to be here."

Dean looked over to Sam. "But he's-"

"An exception," Cas cut off before Dean could finish.

Little Sam was sitting on the floor playing with some little plastic green soldiers with a look of nostalgia and longing on his face. He bit his lip slightly as he looked down at the toys and frowned. It struck Dean hard because he knew why he was looking like that. Those were the soldiers Sam and Dean used to play with together. Dean looked around the room with a similar pained nostalgia that was on the little Sam's face. He knew this room.

A long time ago, when they were so young and Dad was still alive, they squatted in an empty house and stayed there for a few days. Sam had loved it, an actual house rather than a small motel room. Sam told him he wished they could stay in a place like that for good, to stay and settle and make friends with the kids around him. He'd been five at the time.

This was a memory room, where Sam was living. He wondered if this Sam would at times imagine Dean as a child in the room with him or if Cas being there stopped the memories from playing out. Also, while this was that exact room, some changes had been made. For example, there were pictures on the wall where there hadn't been before. One was a picture of little Sam in Dad's lap on the bed with Dean sitting next to him. Sam looked happy and he was smiling at Dean and Dean was smiling back. Sam was five and Dean was nine, the same ages as when they'd been squatting in the house.

Dean felt hit with hard emotion at the sight of this little version of Sam feeling for him and Dad so strongly and missing them so much that he wanted a photo of Dean and Dad up on the wall to look at. The poor kid… Poor Sammy, except it wasn't Sammy, but… He looked over at the kid, who was looking over at dean with suspicious eyes, not knowing who Dean was, not recognizing him. Of course he wouldn't. In his mind, he'd only ever seen Dean as a child. The man before him was just a stranger in his eyes, a man he'd never seen before in his life.

And that hurt. That hurt, and there was another thing that hurt too, this pain bitter-sweet. He'd been with the soulless version of Sam for a while now, months. Before that, he hadn't even seen the feeling version of Sam for a whole year, believing him dead. So basically, Sam was dead for a year and when he 'came back', he was nothing but an empty shell of what the Sam he remembered used to be, more of a mockery really. Sometimes, it just plain hurt to have this stranger that looked like Sam but was nothing like Sam staring him in the face every day. It reminded him constantly that the real Sammy was in hell, suffering, being tortured and his brother was stuck with a heartless parody of him.

Here, this Sam, although he wasn't his Sam, wasn't the real Sam, he FELT like Sam, even if it was only a younger version of him. This little guy didn't just look like Sam; he _was _Sam, or rather, just like him. Dean was looking, staring in the face of the feeling younger brother with warm, though hurt (and hell, at least hurt was an emotion), hazel eyes, expressive hazel eyes. Every movement this child made was like Sam. He was looking like Dean with the same look he used to give strangers when they approached Sam and Dean as kids. When they did so, Dean remembered that Sam would squeeze his hand ever so slightly; looking for comfort, protection, reassurance… and now he was looking at _Dean_ that way.

Dean looked away, unable to take it any longer and he saw a second picture by a nightstand on the bed. It was one of Sam, as he is now, being held by Cas in his lap. His eyes were lit with such joy as he hugged the winged teddy-bear Sam now had beside him. Cas was wrapping his arms around the child with eyes lit up in a complete happiness Dean had never ever seen on his face before. Both the older and younger looked as if they loved being exactly as they were right now with not a care in the world to anything else going on around them.

Dean looked back at the picture of Sam with Dean and Dad. Sam was happy, but held a sort of sad look in his eyes because he knew this moment wouldn't last, that Dad would leave them alone and go out on a hunt.

"Dad…?" Sam said cautiously, still eying the tall strange man before him.

"He's okay Samuel. He's… a friend of mine."

_Why didn't he tell him who Dean was?_

Sam put his green soldiers-toys down and grabbed the arm of his teddy before walking over to Castiel and reaching out to hold his hand. Castiel took it with a light smile and Sam looked up at him smiling brightly, eyes lighting up. He moved a little so he was behind the man he viewed as a father and partially blocked from Dean's view, hiding a little.

Dean felt hurt again and also anger. Cas was bringing Sam joy and it felt wrong. Dean should be the one Sam was trusting, not Cas. When they were kids, Sam would always count on Dean and Dad, _their_ Dad when the man was around. Mostly Dean though. He'd hold Dean's hand and look at him with dependence, with love. The love he was giving Cas was equal and even maybe above that he'd given Dean. That wasn't right. Dean was Sam's family, not Cas. _Dean_ had grown up with Sam and cared for Sam, not _Cas_. Blood or no blood, Dean was the one who raised Sam. Hell, Dean had been almost a father to Sam, a father that he missed from the absent one and an older brother on top of it.

It felt like Cas was taking that away from him.

But no, Dean reminded himself. He had to stop thinking like that. This _wasn't_ Sam. It _wasn't_ his little brother. His brother was in hell, burning, screaming. This was just some kid who looked… and _thought_ just like Sam. And hell, they hadn't even been through everything him and _his_ Sam had been through. _His_ Sam had done all the things this kids_ false_ past and so much more. Sam and Dean grew up together, side by side. Sam looked up to Dean and was brought by him many memorable moments like the fireworks Dean had snuck out and set off to watch them with Sam. They'd gazed at them together and little Sammy had given him a big hug and thanked him, looking up at him with those adoring eyes, like Dean was the best thing in the whole world…

And then, when they were adults, they fought side by side battling demons and creatures and other nightmares. Dean was there for Sam when Jess died. Sam had died in Dean's arms. Dean had died for Sam. Sam had been there for him or at least listened when he came back and talked about hell. Of course, he was also being manipulated and drugged by the bitch-demon Ruby's blood. If he'd have caught the warning signs early on, maybe he could have stopped what happened after.

They started the apocalypse together, Dean in hell and Sam on earth. They broke together, suffered together. And hell, Sam was there for dean through it all. When Dean had lost all faith and hope, when he'd tossed the necklace Sam had given him in the trash just to show Sam how much he didn't trust in Sam or faith or anything anymore, how none of it mattered, how their once-strong bond was dead and gone, Sam hadn't lost faith in Dean. He was there; he chased him down when he'd run from him. He gave him those eyes, those trusting eyes, depending eyes. When it came down to it, to saying yes to Michael, Sam had changed his mind with a single look.

After that, they'd bonded right back together again and the bond got stronger than ever. Then with Sam at his side, they fought on and eventually stopped the apocalypse. Neither could have done it without the other.

All of that? THAT was Sam. This kid was only seven years old, a mockery to the _real_ Sam. If he wanted to bond with Cas and view him as his father, he could go ahead. Cas was caring to the kid. He gave him a roof and shelter in the safest place he could possibly bring him, his own personal heaven. After that, the angel deserved some love.

"Dad? Your friend stares a lot," the kid said

"Funny, he says that all the time about _me_…" Castiel replied.

Dean blinked and realized he'd been battling with himself for over five minutes and shook his head a little to clear it. "Sorry."

"Who are you, friend of Dads?" the child asked and then turned to his 'Dad'. "Who is he Dad?"

When Dean saw little Sam looking up at Cas with such trust, such bond, and such emotion, Dean felt another surge of jealousy and a sense of wrongness, despite the fact that he'd reasoned with himself that this wasn't Sam at all, just a copy. He was _nothing_. The real Sam was the one he should want looking at him like that, not this random kid. Sam looked over at Dean with a small smile and then shrunk back a little. It was then that Dean realized he was glaring unintentionally at the poor kid and stopped. He didn't want to be cruel to the poor kid.

"I'm Dean Winchester, your brother."

Dean said it because despite everything, he wanted Sam to feel something for him, even though it wasn't really Sam. He wanted to see warm hazel eyes looking at him with something other than distrust and mild curiosity even though this Sam hadn't been with Dean for his whole life, in fact technically hadn't been through any of it. He hadn't even really been alive for as long as he was old.

And Dean got his wish. Sam's eyes welled up with emotion, happiness, but also pain. Tears were brought to his eyes and he gave Dean a bit of an accusing look. He was still heart-broken with Dean. How could he not be there for him? How could he grow up without him, and with another Sam at that? Why couldn't _he_ be Dean's Sam? But then all of that faded and was overcome with happiness so powerful it hurt and an answered longing to see Dean again, to see his brother here and paying attention to him. He ran to the older man and hugged him tight around the waist, his eyes leaking with tears as he sobbed quietly into Dean's shirt. He buried his face into Dean's chest (he was so small) and held on like he never wanted to let go.

Dean felt overwhelmed that Sam was here and cared about him. He was so used to him being gone or not caring, not even if he died. He hugged the kid back and stroked down his back.

"Where were you? I missed you so much!" Sam cried.

"Shh, I'm here now Sammy," Dean soothed.

He shouldn't be doing this. This wasn't really Sammy. He shouldn't be taking in the comfort and let himself feel as if this were real, as if this were really his Sam, but dammit! He couldn't help himself. He wanted this so bad, even if the kid was only seven and missing so many years his real brother had on his life. Hell, maybe that was even better. He could spare him the pain his Sam had went through.

No, he should be thinking about _his_ Sam, not this one. _His_ Sam was in desperate need of help, of saving. This kid already had Cas.

But he was. He was loving this Sam, this little kid in his arms, like he was his brother, like he had a second chance at making things right, at giving Sam a better life. One with a normal childhood, friends, a good school, everything he wanted. He could see Sam grow up without pain and loving him, depending on him, not just as a brother, but his father. If Dean stopped hunting, he could raise this Sam, give him a normal life. And if he had a normal life, he would love it and love Dean and have no reason to want anything else.

Oh, he'd get to see Sam so happy like he'd wanted for a long time. He could go to college and meet someone and get married and have kids. This wasn't like when the Djinn had been draining him of his life's essence and taunted him with his deepest desires. This was _real_. This Sam was real.

But he wasn't real. He might have a form, physical and whole, but he wasn't _Dean's_ Sam and when he looked up at Cas, his friend, he saw anger in the angels eyes. Because he had no right to make Sam feel this way, to feel loved and like he was going to be there for him now when he was on a hunt to get a soul back from hell, when he could die at any minute.

He couldn't even really bring this Sam back with him. To do so would be needlessly dangerous to the kid. It would mess him up more then he'd already been through the over a year of pain and confusion the kid had to go through.

And there was another look in Cas's eyes, a second reason for the anger. It wasn't just that this wasn't Dean's Sam. It was that this was _Castiels_ Sam, the reason for happiness that Castiel had never before known, the precious gift that had come out of taking the abandoned child out of hands of fire and into the hands of heaven. He was Sam's father. Sam was his child.

And Dean looked like he wanted to take that away from him.

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More reviews make me write faster :P


	3. Chapter 3

This chapter is dedicated to the reviewer who made the longest review I've ever been reviewed. Thank you so much Ellie. I couldn't sleep without writing this chapter(what can I say? I'm obsessive and slightly neurotic), so thank her everyone and use her as an example.

Disclaimer: It's called fanfiction for a reason idiots that came up with disclaimers for fanfiction in the first place.

Sorry that this one is a little short... :(

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"I was holding him in my arms and damn it Sammy, he was just like you."

Dean looked over to the tall emotionless figure with a completely blank, but interested-looking face and rolled his eyes. Yeah right, the kid was the complete opposite of this asshole.

"Like you used to be at that age, I mean."

They were sitting together in a booth at a random cafe with cracked tiled floors and worn padded seats of faded orange. Dean didn't bring Sam here for the food or coffee here so much as a neutral place to sit down and talk where he could focus on the conversation more than the road in front of him.

"Are you allowed back up to see him again?" Sam asked.

"It doesn't matter what I'm _allowed _to do. I'm going back, and I don't know if it's safe up there with Cas. Sure, he has good intentions, but he's not exactly father material."

"Like you are?" Sam asked, raising an amused eyebrow.

Dean fell silent at that statement and thought about Ben, about how he'd almost turned into his own father when he found out the kid was in danger, ordering him around to stay inside, that it wasn't safe elsewhere. He remembered what a jerk he'd been, yelling at him for touching his stuff and reacting out of hand when Ben mentioned trying to learn to hunt. He remembered putting Ben and Lisa in danger when he was turned into a vampire, wanting to drain Lisa and Ben's blood dry.

He flinched. No, he wasn't any better of a father than Cas. In fact, he might even be worse than Cas, but spending a life secluded in Heaven without friends or any time on the real world wasn't good for the kid. He must be pretty damn lonely in fact. He didn't want this version of Sammy to grow up with a blank emotionless face putting all his faith in a God that just didn't give a crap. He wanted this Sammy to have a life, a real life.

"Maybe I could leave him with Lisa…" he said distractedly, as if talking to himself more than Sam.

Hell, that's basically what he was doing anyway. It wasn't like the soulless lump actually gave a crap. Dean just needed to talk to _someone_. He was pulled out of his thoughts by a snort of laughter. That was one thing that was also different from the Sam with a soul. When the Sam he knew laughed, it was light, cheery, and practically brightened the day. This one, when he laughed, it was dark, sharp, humorless, or sinister, like a demon's laughter.

"Oh, so you won't talk to her, but you'll dump a random child on her doorstep and expect her to raise it? That's hilarious," the man said.

Dean glared at Sam, but he was right. He had no right to ask her such a favor. Hell, Dean didn't even know if he could get up the nerve to call her. Most likely, he'd end up leaving the kid Sammy on her doorstep holding a note like Harry fucking Potter, saying '_Please raise this child for me and don't abuse it – Dean._' Yeah, like that worked _so well_ for the scar-head in the movies (unlike Sam, he didn't bother reading the books). Not to mention, her feelings for Sam weren't exactly warm and fuzzy, so how would she react to the kid version dumped on her doorstep? Still though, Lisa had a pretty big heart. Hell, she'd been willing to let Dean hunt and stay with him for a while until the vampire incident. There might be a chance she'd take little Sammy in.

He still had to deal with Cas though, even if he went that route. How the hell was he supposed to go about prying a kid away from the arms of a clingy Angel in Heaven? Dean was pretty sure Cas wouldn't let him go without a fight, if at all. Judging by the threatening looks he gave Dean for even talking to Sam, he'd probably rip him to shreds if Dean stole the kid away.

But he'd have to find a way to do it. He felt sorry for Cas and hated to take away that warm feeling in his eyes whenever he looked at the kid. Dean knew Cas deserved some happiness and it wasn't Dean's place to say Cas wasn't as much or even more of a father then their dad had ever been. Yeah, he knew that, but even so, a life spent trapped by one Angel and an abstract web of memories around him wasn't a life, and even if this Sam wasn't his Sam, the kid deserved the happiest and healthiest life he could get.

"I'll have to get him away from Cas and hide right after. Right now, we should focus on getting your soul back."

Sam shook his head. "No."

"What do you _mean_ no?"

Sam laughed. "You heard what they said. You stick that thing back in and it's curtains for me. It's rare when a demon and an angel agree on something, but when they do, you tend to listen to them."

"We'll find a way to make it safe."

Sam stood. "I'm not risking it, sorry Dean. It's not a good idea and you know it. And you know, the only reason I wanted to stay around you is because I thought getting my soul back was a good idea. Now I realize I was wrong."

"You can't just go off on your own without me Sam! Not with your soul gone, and we have to get it back. You can't go on without it. It just-"

"I was fine for a year before I joined up with you and I'll be fine without you."

And then he left Dean even as he yelled protests and insults, not giving a crap. Dean felt anger rise and at the same time almost heard the breaking of his heart. Sam's coldness, his emptiness, his uncaring, it was breaking him down to desperation and his brother couldn't care less.

Little Sam stared at the image of Dean before him, Dean, his Dean, his big and now much older brother. He smiled as he watched him.

"I'm Dean Winchester, your brother."

Sam ran into Dean's arms and felt them around his body, warm, solid, safe.

"Where were you? I missed you so much!" he told his brother, rubbing the side of his cheek against Dean's chest.

He couldn't get enough of this feeling, of Dean, his big brother, _here_. He was with him right now, _him_, not the _other_ Sam. Not the adult, but _him_. He was holding him, stroking his back to soothe his little brother. It was like the other Sam didn't even exist, like he was the only Sam that did exist, the only Sam that mattered.

"Shh, I'm here now Sammy."

Even that damn annoying nickname was so good to hear. He hadn't heard it in forever. He laughed delightedly, holding Dean even tighter. He liked the sound of his older voice. It was deep, rough, but with a soft edge to it. He loved it. He loved everything about his older brother.

"I had no idea you were here Sam. If I'd have known…I would have come to see you before. Oh Sammy, I'm sorry."

"Don't want you to leave, not ever," Sam breathed and it was true, even now. He wanted Dean to stay with him now and for good.

"I'm sorry kiddo, but I do have to go back to Earth, probably soon. I'll be back though, I promise."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that _Dean_," a voice interrupted.

Sam looked up to see his Dad, his angel father standing there. This time, he noticed how angry he looked. Why was he so mad? Dean didn't do anything wrong. He should be happy his brother was back! He should be as happy as Sam was.

"Why not?" he asked his father.

The angel turned to Sam and offered an apologetic smile. "Dean is very busy. He's a hunter now and has a lot of things to do. It's dangerous and it's not safe for you."

"They could wait! He should be with me now."

"Sammy," Dean said as he backed away and put his hands on Sam's shoulders. "I do have to go, but I _will_ be back, no matter what your _Dad_ says."

With that his brother turned and glared at his father. Why were they giving each other mad looks? Was Sam the only person to get that this was a happy thing? Did he have to clue his family in to this obvious fact? Really, adults could be so weird.

Dean ruffled his hair.

"You don't need to worry Sammy."

"Samuel," a voice interrupted. This one was louder than the others, clear, sharp.

Sam looked up to see his real angel Father standing next to his memory father sending a glare his way. He looked over at the frozen images of himself and Dean before looking back over to Sam.

"I thought I blocked the memories of Dean away a while ago. They shouldn't have been reopened."

"That was the old Dean. This is the new him. It's different."

Castiel waved his hand and the memory of Dean and he faded. Sam looked heartbroken, but Cas just gave him a sad smile.

"Why did you do that?" Sam shrieked.

"You can't live in the past Samuel. It's unhealthy. You really need to move on. How many times have you played this?"

Sam shrugged. He'd lost count really, ever since his father had left the room. He'd played the memories of his brother constantly in a loop over and over. He couldn't get enough of seeing his brother, alive and real and whole, standing before him. Why was it such a bad thing?

"You need to stop. I've blocked off this memory as well now."

"Then you need to let me see him!" Sam cried out.

"I'll lock away those memories too."

"Just let me see him again Dad! He's my BROTHER. I HAVE to see him!"

Cas sighed. He hated seeing his son so broken up like this, but letting his interactions with Dean continue would only bring more pain to everyone in the long run. For instance, just now Samuel had only seen Dean once and already he had that broken, empty look on his face that had been absent for months. He'd been playing memories with the adult version of Dean over and over obsessively no doubt. He was torturing himself.

He considered taking the memory of the even from Sam's mind altogether, but he didn't want to risk touching Sam's mind in such a way, even if it was only to take away the memories. He knew so little about this situation, about Sam's soul and how it would react to outside contact. He had no idea what would happen. It could be extremely fragile and shatter into a thousand pieces or it could be so absorbent it soaked up or copied some of Castiel's angelic energies.

Either consequence wasn't something Castiel was prepared to risk, so touching his child's memories was not something he would do.

Instead, he touched Sam's hair and ran his fingers through it in a soothing motion.

"I know you can't understand right now, but this is for the best. This contact with Dean is hurting you more than it hurts."

"YOU HAVE TO LET ME SEE HIM! _PLEASE_!"

Samuel was crying again, begging with his pleading puppy-like hazel eyes that could melt the hardest of hearts. Castiel was nearly brought to tears himself and he reached forward to pull Sam into an embrace and comfort him further, to make it better. He wanted his child to stop crying. He didn't ever want Sam to be sad or hurt. He wanted him to be happy always, his sweet child.

But Sam just pushed at him, shoved him away and ran out the door to his room and out into the hills and fields that he, John, and Dean had once went camping when they were too far away from a hotel. John had prepared in advance and bought a cheap tent and some canned food to make the night something his boys would enjoy.

Castiel remembered when he and Sam had gone camping themselves there. His son had been so happy, hugging his teddy-bear and looking at Cas with adoring eyes. Excitedly, the two had swapped stories and roasted marshmallows over a fire, a concept Castiel hadn't understood, but Sam had found enjoyable and after trying it, he agreed though whether it was the experience himself or just doing it with Samuel that made it pleasant he didn't know.

He looked over at the teddy which now lay abandoned at the side of his bed and felt a pang of jealousy towards the lot, Dean and John. Castiel had given Sam much better camping trips. He'd gotten better equipment and made it much more fun. His attention was solely on Sam, not the next thing he wanted to kill.

Dean had a brother, a real one. This Sam needed special attention, attention Dean just couldn't give. Just because the real Sam was in hell didn't mean the older Winchester had any right to take his son away from him. Why had he told Sam who he was? Didn't he know it would only hurt his Samuel? No, he was too ignorant, too self-centered to care. He just wanted the attention no doubt. He just opened his mouth and let the words fly.

He didn't like being angry at his only feeling human friend, but he deserved the anger and much more for hurting his Samuel like this.

He didn't bother to think that Sam would be hurt and that Castiel would have to pick up the pieces.

When he finally found his child sobbing under a tent, curled up into a little ball, he got on his knees next to him and pulled his son into his arms. This time, Sam gave in and took all the comfort Castiel had to offer. He cried into his shirt, probably knowing that right now, Dean was worried about the real Sam, that even though his Samuel would give anything to be Dean's Sam, it would never happen.

Because he wasn't truly _real_ to anyone but Castiel, who loved his son for everything he was and everything he wasn't. Castiel was the only person in Sam's life who preferred _him_ over the Sam strutting about soulless or the soul of him burning in hell because that Sam wasn't his son. This boy was. This boy was the one he gave his heart to wholly and fully, the one he'd shared the best memories of his very long angelic life with, the one he'd give up his angel-hood for, the one he'd die for, his son.

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Reviews make me happy and make me update. I'll need the encouragement since I'm a little lost on what to write next right now. I mean, I know where to go, just have trouble putting it down atm...


	4. Chapter 4

AN: OMG! I actually updated, right? I know, it's been like almost a year. I was a bad bad writer. It wasn't that I forgot about the story. More like I forgot about my entire fanfic account. I stopped using the email linked to this account and started using another one, which meant I stopped getting alerts to all my stories. Then, with life and everything whirling around me, I just... forgot about all my stories.

I logged back into my account again yesterday after almost a year of not touching it and read this story again. I like it a lot. I like the idea behind it, the themes. I like writing about their inner conflicts and such. So here's a very very very late update, if any of my reviewers are even still interested... Sorry...

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Dean didn't know what to do. For the moment, Sam was unfindable. The guy had up and disappeared once he figured he didn't want his soul back. What a damn ass. Downright infuriating. Now he was all on his own and had no luck on finding out how to retrieve Sam's soul from hell. It seemed almost hopeless, but still, Dean would never give up.

The other person predominantly on his mind and worries was little Sam. Surely it wasn't healthy for a kid to spend his whole life up there alone in a place made of memories. It was Heaven anyway. Dean was pretty sure such a thing wasn't allowed. He tried calling Cas down to reason with him, but didn't get any response. Nothing. Nada. Zip, zilch, zero. No matter how much he ranted. How much he raved, the kid would not come down.

The little Sam ate in silence as Castiel stared at him with longing, wanting the child to talk to him. Sam was nothing if not stubborn, so he stayed silent, refusing to speak a word. Castiel sighed. Samuel had been like this for a while now. At first, he tried to lock him out, but that didn't work since Castiel could just appear in the room with Sam. Then, he tried to hide, but Castiel always found him. So now he settled for stubborn silence. He hadn't spoken a word in weeks.

**_"CAS!"_**

That scream in his head made Castiel wince and clutch his head. Ouch. Did Dean really have to keep doing that? He'd thought that the man would have gotten the hint by now that Castiel wasn't going to speak with him. He was not giving up his child nor was he going to bring Dean to see Sam. It was a bad situation and would only harm Samuel emotionally even more. He'd done enough damage with a single visit. Cas didn't want to see what would happen with a second one.

"Headache?" Sam asked.

Castiel looked down at Sam, surprised that he was speaking to him. Then he smiled, happy for the long awaited break of silence. Upon further examination of Sam's face however, Castiel could see that Sam didn't look happy with him. In fact, he seemed angrier than ever.

"Excuse me?" Castiel asked.

"It's Dean, isn't it?" Sam asked, voice as sharp as a knife.

Castiel looked away, unable to meet Samuel's eyes.

"It doesn't matter," he said simply.

"Yes it DOES! He's my brother. LET ME SEE HIM!" Sam shouted.

Great, now Castiel had two people shouting at him.

**_"CAS! YOU GET DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!"_**

Damn Winchesters teaming up on him. If Castiel hadn't known better, he could have sworn they planned this.

"It isn't fair," Sam said, tears streaming from his eyes, "You have no right to keep him from me. He WANTS to see me. I want this so badly. I need it!"

"He's not your brother Sam."

"Yes he is!" Sam snapped.

"No, he's not. He only sees you as a nostalgic reminder of what he used to be. His Sam is in hell and when he comes back out, he might lose interest in you altogether."

"I... I don't care!" Sam said, but his eyes said otherwise, "If that's the case, then I want to see him while I still have the chance."

"He's a hunter. He kills demons and monsters every day and he has no safe haven to bring you to like I do."

Sam looked confused. "So what? I just want to go see him."

"Down on Earth? That's dangerous. What if a demon finds out what you are? Or a creature? They'll capture and hurt you again. I simply won't allow it."

"Then bring him up here," Sam said, "I don't care. I just want to see him. Here is fine too."

"He's not supposed to be here. This isn't a place for living humans."

"It's not a place for me either. I'm not allowed here and yet here I am. Do the same for him."

"He will hurt you."

"No he won't. I'll be fine, better than fine. I just want to spend some time with him. Please."

Castiel was silent. He shouldn't give in, not even this once. Sam pressed to his side, wrapping his arms around him.

"Please?" he pleaded with those puppy eyes of his.

Castiel sighed.

**_"Come on Cas. You've got to talk to me sooner or later."_**

"Please?"

A short time later, Dean was sitting cross-legged on the floor with Sam on either side of a small wooden coffee table. This room of the 'house' was run down. Peeling wallpaper, weak looking wood. A window leading outside so dirty he could barely see the snow outside. He remembered this place. They'd been in the woods, staying in an abandoned cabin for the night. Well, that had been the plan. A storm had come in that night and stormed them in, forcing them to stay in for weeks. Weeks with just the three of them. John, Dean, and Sam.

It made Dean's heart warm to know that the favorite memories of the Sam in front of him were of him and Dad, unlike the grown Sam who favored memories of being away from the two of them and with some sense of normalcy. This Sam though was before the Sam that had gotten a taste and craving for life outside of Dean and John. All he knew was them and their family, so all of his desires were still wrapped up in the two of them.

Sam smirked in that special way of his when he got exactly what he wanted as he moved a red checker piece to jump over two of Dean's black pieces on the board and smirked up at his brother. Dean gave him a glare and removed his pieces from the board, putting them off to the side with a huff.

"Brat," he bit out.

Sam laughed in that special, damn near musical way of his that made Dean smile despite it being at his expense, causing him to damn near eat up the sheer joy on his little brother's face.

"All these years and you still suck at checkers," Sam teased.

"Shut up," Dean responded, causing Sam to laugh once more.

The checkerboard was old and worn, made out of cardboard that folded up easily with the paper of some of the squares peeled off in places. They'd found this board at a motel and Sam had taken it with them, keeping it as long as possible so that he and his brother could play. Over time, the board got old and they lost so many of the pieces they had to replace some with random things they found around the house. Spare keys, buttons, paper clips, some of Sam's toy soldiers. Still, that didn't stop them from loving the game until it caught fire when their dad aimed a makeshift flamethrower at some creature or another and the board got burned in the crossfire.

Dean smirked as he jumped a piece of Sam's. "Ha!"

But that opened up one of Dean's pieces to get jumped by Sam's. So Sam jumped it immediately with another smirk. Whatever, it was worth it.

"So you hunt now?" Sam asked.

Dean felt a bit of anger at Cas, turning to give him a slight glare. Sam, at the age he'd been recreated as, hadn't known yet about the supernatural world. Dad just told them they had to travel a lot and left Dean to make up some stories about what they were doing to keep Sam in the dark for as long as they could to save some form of innocence... while it lasted.

Castiel shrugged. "I told him the truth. It had to be done considering what happened to him. There was no way to keep it from him."

While that probably true, Dean still felt angry at the angel. He always was far too blunt to people when he didn't have to be. Sam cleared his throat, causing Dean to turn back to Sam, absentmindedly moving one of his pieces in a random direction as his brother waited for an answer. Dean nodded.

"Yeah."

"You and _Sam_?" the little Sam asked with a surprising amount of venom.

"Well, Sam's a bit out of reach at the moment."

"In hell, yeah. The other part of him though?"

"I don't know where the non-soul part is. He ran off somewhere."

"Are you going to find him?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Dean said.

"Are you going to be able to get his soul out of hell?"

"Yeah, as soon as I find out how."

"What if you can't?" Sam asked.

Dean glared darkly at the checkerboard, gritting his teeth. "There is a way. There's always a way. I just have to find it."

"What if you can't find one?"

"I'm not giving up on him. I won't leave him to burn in hell. He's my brother."

Sam looked taken aback with the acid in Dean's voice and the burning glare given to him, leaning back a little in alarm and surprise.

"Dean, watch it," Castiel hissed.

Dean redirected his glare down at the board, falling silent while he tried to cool off. It wouldn't accomplish anything to get angry at the kid. It wasn't this Sam's fault his brother was in hell. Yet, how dare he say such a thing? He had no right to speak such a way about his brother. He wasn't even real. He was a fake with fake memories and experiences. He wasn't even a real human when it came down to it.

He forced down the hostility he felt in his chest. No, it wasn't fair to take it out on the kid. It wasn't his fault he existed. Dean had to constantly struggle with himself. He felt so many things towards the kid in front of him. Hostility, resent, hate, greed, longing, need, affection, nostalgia, love. He let out a long sigh.

Sam shifted uncomfortably in front of his brooding brother. He hadn't meant to make Dean angry. He just... kind of hated that other Sam. He envied him, wanted to take his place. Not to hunt of course. He had no interest in that sort of thing. He even hated the idea of it. Hunting, he learned, was what his original father had been busy with all those years back on Earth. Hunting was the reason Dean and he moved from place to place, never having any friends or place to call home. Hunting was the reason Dean and he had never seen their father, the reason for all the pain and sorrow.

He had no interest in hunting with Dean, even if that meant they would be together. No, he just wanted to take the other place in Dean's heart. He wanted Dean to see him as his brother, not the other Sam. Maybe it was selfish, but it's what he wanted more than anything. The perfect scenario in Sam's mind would be for Dean to give up on hunting altogether and live up here with him and Dad, but he knew that would never happen.

"Didn't mean to make you angry," he muttered.

Dean shook his head. "Let's just talk about something else. What's it like up here? How does Cas treat you?"

"I treat him fine," Cas said defensively.

"I didn't ask you Cas. Go back to being a wallplant."

"I can put you right back down on Earth and leave you there, so WATCH what you say."

"Guys, stop fighting!" Sam said.

He was frustrated at the both of them. At Dean for talking to Dad that way and at Dad for threatening to take Dean away. He didn't want him to go away. He wanted him to stay here as long as he could.

"He treats me okay. It's nice up here. The whole... structure of this place was confusing at first, but I got used to it after a while."

Dean agreed with Sam on that one. Heaven was confusing. He remembered the last time he and the real Sam were up here. It was damn hard to move around with the whole damn place shifting from memory to memory with environments and houses changing all around them. This place was thankfully, a bit more structured, but still confusing. Every room in this place was from a different state, environment and memory, yet somehow linked together in one house.

Some places, like this room, was especially confusing. The window outside was dirty, but showed snow falling and ice caked around the edges from the outside. Dean knew for a fact though, that the outside of this place was a wilderness with hills and trees. There was also another room too that led to an outside pool, a completely different environment around them than he would find from walking out the regular front door that led to the wilderness.

Another thing was the shifting temperature. The room they were in was freezing and the two of them wore thick, tattered sweaters to protect themselves from the cold. The other rooms ranged in temperature from regular air conditioned to nearly unbearably hot.

"My memory is pretty good now too. I mean, better than before. I used to only think back on some memories with only a vague impression or a general feeling, but now I can recall every detail of some things with perfect clarity, especially the ones I used to re-live."

"Used to?"

Sam shook his head. "Dad fixed the place so I can't play the memories back. I did have really good control over them at one point though. I could pick and choose what memories to go over and I could play them again and again and again if I wanted."

One part of Dean felt angry at this. Sam should be allowed to see the memories of him and Dad if he so wanted and it wasn't Cas's right to take that away. On the other hand though, he could see why Cas did it. It could probably mess with the kids sense of reality and hurt him on top of it, knowing he couldn't ever really go back to the way things were.

"Do you go to school?" Dean asked.

Sam shook his head. "I live here. Cas teaches me stuff though like math, english, science. It's really cool. Sometimes, he takes teachers from their Heavens and has them tutor me. That's always fun too. He always erases their memories right after though so they never remember me."

Sam frowned.

"You don't have any friends?" Dean asked.

"No..."

"Don't you get lonely?"

"Sometimes, but I never really had friends before either, so it's not much of a difference."

Dean frowned. Sure, this kid might not exactly be a normal kid, but he still deserved something of a normal life. Sam especially deserved one. He knew Sam well, knew how the kid longed for being normal, craved interaction with people and a sense of stability. He knew just how damn happy he would be if he could get a real life down on Earth with a home, a school together and friends to make. He was real smart too. He'd thrive under knowledge and actually make something of himself, something normal without the threat of dying every day from some supernatural baddy or another.

"It would be real nice if you could actually go to school, huh?" Dean asked, "Back on Earth..."

Sam paused, thinking about it and Dean sure as hell didn't miss the agreement and longing for such a thing flashing in his eyes, but the kid shook his head a moment later. "Dad says it's too dangerous for me down there."

Castiel walked by and grabbed Dean's arm then, tugging him off the floor. Sam looked up at his Dad with alarm in his eyes.

"Samuel," Castiel said to his son, "Dean and I need to talk in private for a minute."

"Dad," Sam whined.

"It's okay Sam. Cas and I really do have some things to talk about," Dean said.

Sam still looked upset, but was silent as he watched Dean and Castiel leave to another room. Dean looked around at it briefly. A kitchen and dining room crammed together looking as if it belonged to one of the many ratty motels they'd stayed at. Before Dean could place the memory of where it came from, Cas started speaking to him.

"You can't put ideas like that into Samuel's head," Cas said.

"But there's truth in them Cas," Dean said, "He's just a kid, as you've said before. Kids deserve a normal life. Sam deserves it."

"First of all, you can't give that to him," Cas said darkly.

His arms were straight down at his side, shoulders squared as he gave Dean an intense glare, looking right into his eyes in that uncomfortable way that he always did.

"I've lived a normal life for a year on my own once before," Dean said, "I could do it again."

"And give up on your brother's soul burning in hell? Let's face it, you're not going to rest until you save him, which might never happen."

"I meant after I saved Sam. And it can happen by the way. I can do it."

"You'll always go back to hunting," Cas said, "It's what you do. It's in your blood. You won't be able to stop yourself. If this fantasy of yours played out, it would only last a few years at most. And that's being generous."

"I could do it!" Dean insisted.

Castiel shook his head. "In any rate, even if you could, it's too dangerous for him down there."

"It's not healthy for a kid to grow up in heaven, completely isolated. You could end up doing damage to him yourself by making him live this way."

"It's better than the alternative."

"How exactly is he even a danger as long as we don't go around telling everyone what he is?"

"He's in danger from everything. Angels, demons, creatures. If they found out what Samuel is, they would take away and torture him, take him apart and rip him to pieces to put him to use. Surely, you don't want that."

"Of course not Cas! I'd make sure he was safe obviously."

"They can still find out. They have ways of finding out or sensing something is different about him."

"Then we just hide him from them with magic or whatever. Sam and I did it all the time. There are spells and rituals to block out the angel and demon radar."

"Right, and that worked so well for you and Sam," Cas said darkly with bitter sarcasm, "Remind me again, how many times did the two of you die? Not to mention where Sam is now."

Dean felt anger rush through him and punched Cas in the face before steaming at the angel. Castiel looked surprised, but mostly unaffected. He touched his cheek and looked at his hand in contemplation before going back to staring at Dean, who continued to steam at him. Of course, the punch did nothing to the angel. With him being an angel, he wouldn't even bruise.

"I think this visit has gone on long enough," Cas said.

He brought Dean back down to Earth and left him there, steaming in the dark of the night. Cas was wrong. He could find a way to get Sam to live a normal life. Just like he could find a way to get Sam's soul out of hell.

A few days passed with Dean looking for ways to save his brother and getting frustratingly nowhere. All three Sams, the one in hell, the soulless body, and the little clone up in Heaven, were all on his mind. He got nowhere with calling Cas. He got nowhere with finding the soulless asshole, and he got nowhere with finding ways into the cage of hell. It was frustrating as hell and grating on Dean's last nerve.

Eventually, he did the one thing he didn't think he'd ever get the courage to do. If not for everything going on at the same damn time, he probably wouldn't have, but here he was, at that familiar door to see that familiar face.

Lisa was really gracious considering. She let him through the door anyway and had him sit down. She made him a coffee and demanded to know what had happened with him breaking in and breaking out after shoving Ben. He didn't want to tell her. Hell, he'd rather tell her just about anything but the truth. He tried to stumble around the subject, lie, or give vague details, but she took none of that shit. She demanded to know the truth, the real truth, and wouldn't let him say anything else until she got it.

So he told her, reluctantly and slowly with long pauses in between sentences. He watched the horrified look on her face grow and grow and was so convinced that any second, she'd shove him out the door in disgust and tell him to never come back, but she didn't. She had to sit down for the shock and didn't speak for a long time after he finished his story. Dean didn't say anything either, having nothing more to say about it.

But suddenly, she surprised him by reaching across the table to grab and squeeze his hand. He looked down at hers, saying nothing before looking up to her face in question. Her eyes looked haunted as hell, but there was the smallest hint of a smile on her face.

"Thanks."

"For what?" Dean asked, shocked beyond belief.

"You actually told me."

"I kind of had to. You weren't giving me an option here."

"Still, that's really honest, especially for you. I know it was hard... Thanks."

Dean smiled back unsteadily and nodded.

"Now you can tell me why you're here," Lisa continued.

So Dean told her. She seemed happy at the fact that Sam wasn't hanging around him anymore, but sympathetic for him that his soul was in hell. When she heard about the clone Sam up in Heaven, Dean saw that light of protectiveness in her eyes and he understood what it meant. She was a mother and even though she didn't like how the actual Sam apparently had a bad influence on Dean(If she only understood the entire truth, she'd know that really, it was the other way around entirely), she felt sympathy on a child who was being deprived of a normal life.

"So you want to get this kid away from... Heaven."

She was more than a little confused too, of course, but that was understandable. It was a lot of information to take in at once. Even Dean didn't really understand everything entirely.

"Yeah, if it was possible."

"But he doesn't really exist," Lisa said, "How would you make it possible for him to live in the real world normally without any proof of birth, no birth certificates, no anything?"

Dean rolled his eyes and laughed. Of all the questions... "Piece of cake. I've forged more ids and crap than I can remember."

"Oh, right... Well, if you did find out a way to get him here after you work everything out with your brother and all... and you wanted to come back and live here, he could stay with us."

Dean beamed. This was the reaction he had hoped for and his imagination was running wild. Making a normal life for this other Sam seemed closer to a reality now. He could make things right. He could make at least some form of Sam live a normal and happy life. He hugged her. Then he kissed her. It was deep and passionate. Dean was reminded of how much he missed her, so aware of all the time he'd spent apart and every night he'd spent in an empty bed and a cold morning. He missed her. He missed Ben. He missed this life.

Of course, a part of him was happy on the road, hunting bad things and saving lives. He felt like a hero and it felt right. It sent his blood pumping and filled him with euphoria, excitement. Even though he'd been reluctant to leave Lisa and Ben at first, there was a big part of him that was damn thrilled to be back in action. If he really did come back to live this life after everything got fixed and settled, there would always be a big part of him missing. He'd always have to live with that craving to be on the road from place to place doing the only thing he really knew, but he just had to live with that.

Everything Dean wanted out of life was split completely in half. Half hunter, half normal. He was either a killer with dreams of a perfect, apple pie life, or a guy living in the cozy, but constraining said apple pie life with the dreams to be on the road killing bad things with his brother and living like a damn vigilante. He could never be completely happy, no matter what he did. He would always long for what he wasn't doing. The grass was always greener on the other side.

He spoke to Ben next. The kid was really happy to see him and filled Dean with a sense of pride and importance. He told Ben, not of the whole deal with Sam, but the idea that a kid a bit younger than Ben might come to live with him if he came back after everything was settled. Ben asked questions, but seemed almost excited by the idea of having something of a little brother.

Dean ate dinner with Ben and Lisa feeling like a normal family and went to bed with Lisa that night, sleeping with her in his arms and feeling like he belonged. That morning, he made breakfast and helped get Ben ready for school. They were all happy and things seemed so normal, so right. Dean knew he had to leave soon and continue the search for answers he might never find, but he liked enjoying this fantasy that maybe, it could all be okay in the end.

He was going to leave that day and explained to Lisa that he had to look for ways to save his brother's soul from hell. He called up Bobby and the man assured Dean he could handle the task of focusing on tracking down soulless Sam. Lisa convinced him to stay though with such a simple argument. Why couldn't he look for solutions for Sam here? If he had no leads yet, he could stay at the house while making calls and looking for them. It was probably even easier that way. Dean wouldn't have to worry about driving from town to town or staying at different cheap motels every night. After a long talk, Dean agreed.

Everything was peaceful for a few more weeks. Lisa and Ben even managed to keep his mind stable enough that he could focus entirely on finding a way to save Sam's soul. It wasn't easy. Dean still had nightmares and worries and periods where he was damn near falling apart and restless, but it was a damn lot better with the emotional support from Lisa and the comfort even Ben had to offer.

The little clone of Sam was still on Dean's mind as well of course, but he figured that he'd focus again on the kid when everything else was settled. Lisa and Ben managed to sate Dean's pain over all the Sams just enough that Dean wasn't spending hours of screaming at Cas to let him see the clone again.

Back up in Heaven, things were anything but peaceful. Sam screamed and screamed at Cas to let him see his brother, demanded to know where he was, what he was doing, and why he wasn't here. He didn't want to hear any of Castiel's assurances that Sam was better off and when Cas broke down and said that Dean hadn't even contacted him again, Sam completely broke down. He wanted to know why, why, and when Castiel didn't have any answers, he fell silent.

He remembered at some point during his conversation with Dean, he'd mentioned the time he spent up here with Sam and how their friend Ash had found ways to break into other Heavens. This made Sam experiment when Castiel wasn't there. With all of his focus and concentration though, he didn't seem to get anywhere. It wasn't surprising considering he had no idea how to go about it.

One day, when he was concentrating really hard, suddenly something happened. The world around Sam changed, just like it had before Castiel had made his Heaven a solid structure. Sam got excited, thinking that he was going to another Heaven, that he'd finally succeeded... but as the world came into focus again, he frowned. This wasn't another heaven. It was just the kitchen. All he'd done was go from the bedroom to the kitchen without moving. He sighed. Well, while it wasn't what he wanted to do, it was something he'd never done before and well, at least that was something.

Castiel came to him again soon after and by this time, Sam was a little happier about what he'd done, feeling proud of it. It was something new he could do and his dad would be so proud! He wanted to brag to Dad and try to do it again so he could show off... but he stopped. No, he should probably keep this a secret so he could use it to his advantage without Dad knowing.

"Samuel... please talk to me," Castiel simply said with a frown, "I'm worried about you."

Sam sighed and walked forward, hugging his father. As much as he wanted to stay mad, his dad was the only person he had to talk to and when your entire life revolves around only one person, going too long without talking to that person was damn near impossible. Right now, he was starting to feel the all too familiar agony well up in his chest and it was too much for him to deal with alone. He needed the comfort that only Dad could give him.

"I just want to see him again. I want him to love me..." he said tearfully.

"Oh Samuel," Cas said sadly.

The angel knelt down to get to Sam's level and held him close while the child cried into his shoulder.

Back down on Earth, things had changed completely for Dean with a single phone call. Dean picked up the ringing phone, expecting it to be for Lisa or Ben, but the two had gone out shopping for the moment and so Dean would take a message for them.

"Hello?"

"It's Sam," came the gruff, deep, emotionless voice on the other end.

Dean nearly dropped the phone.

"Sam?! Where the hell are you?"

"Tell you what. Not only will I answer your question, but I'll stay put while you get in your car and drive down here. I want to talk. In person."

Dean got the information from Sam quickly and hung up, grabbing the impala and leaving Lisa and Ben nothing but a note telling him he had to leave and meet up with Sam.


End file.
